


Deep Dive

by AllHandz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, Destiel - Freeform, First Time, Jensen Ackles - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Misha Collins - Freeform, My First Fanfic, Possessed Dean Winchester, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Voyeurism, destiel smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 23:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHandz/pseuds/AllHandz
Summary: This demon seems to be able to not only read the mind of its current vessel, but also Castiel's mind. How else would it know exactly what Castiel is craving?





	Deep Dive

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my first fic, so please be gentle on me :-) This idea came to me sort of in a dream, it's a short fic, I hope you like it and I'd appreciate some constructive criticism :-)

The door to the library, a.k.a. the interrogation room, shuts with a moderate bang as Sam exits. He said he was going on a food run and while Castiel does know that humans need to eat regularly to sustain their energy he is also certain that Sam is just tired of this thing in front of them. It acts like a demon, but Castiel can't sense it. So either it is hidden so deep inside his vessel that it is obscured to Castiel, or it is another creature altogether.  
Castiel sighs, turns away from the door and looks at the thing sitting comfortably on a chair inside of the devil´s trap.  
The demon, or whatever it is, has been in the bunker for just about a day now and they´ve gotten nowhere with it. Just stupid remarks, ridiculing them and, mostly, silent brooding. From the top of his head Castiel can think of 393840 ways that would make it talk immediately – unfortunately all of them would mean significant damage to the vessel.  
The thing leans back and stretches his neck, turning his head this way and that, producing soft cracks. Then his eyes land directly on Castiel, who straightens his back.  
„So, just the two of us, huh.“, the deep voice rumbles. This abomination is way too relaxed.  
„Yes, Sam will be back shortly. In the meantime, do you have anything you want to say to me? Like you said, it's just the two of us. So why don't you start with why you did this.“, Castiel starts and the thing lets the green eyes of its vessel roll around in their sockets.  
„Oh god, not this again, Cas.“ the creature sighs and it makes the skin on the back of Castiel's neck prickle. It's wrong to hear Dean's special name for him out of Dean's mouth, knowing it is not actually Dean talking.  
Dean's face starts grinning, as if he could read Castiel`s thoughts. Maybe he can? Castiel briefly ponders this before turning his attention back to Dean's body on the chair. Eyes squinting he is weighing his options, as Dean suddenly but very slowly stands up from the chair.  
„Damn, it's hotter than hellfire in here, buddy, can´t you crack a window?“, Dean's voice says, while his face still grins.  
„Maybe you haven´t noticed but we are underground.“ Castiel replies gravely and Dean huffs a small laugh. He was aggravated seeing his best friend like this when Sam was in the room with them but now that he is alone with the mysterious creature inhabiting Dean's body he feels downright uncomfortable. Not scared, no, just... Awkward. Like this is not the way it's supposed to be. Which, of course, it isn't.

Dean was wearing his usual lumberjack uniform when the thing got into him and now Castiel watches him bend down, untie his shoelaces and slip out of his boots. He wiggles Dean's toes, stuck in black socks and stands straight again, before taking off first his khaki jacket and then the red-blue-green plaid flannel shirt that Castiel really likes on Dean. Makes his eyes sparkle. Usually in a good way, today in a very menacing way. He is taking his sweet time and it seems to Castiel an eternity passed (and angels know their way around eternities) before Dean's body stands in front of him in socks, faded bluejeans and a short-sleeved, dark gray T-Shirt which looks very soft. Now Castiel feels himself transitioning from awkward to downright squirming in his trench coat. Especially with Dean still staring at him through those eyes and those impossibly long eyelashes. The ceiling fan moves slowly and casts a shadow above Dean's face every other second. Even though they spend a lot of time together Castiel barely sees Dean in less than 3 layers. He´s actually never seen him in less than one. So this feels to Castiel as if Dean was already standing in front of him stark naked. Castiel quickly observes the broad shoulders, the strong, tanned arms and the pecs visible under the thin grey fabric. Castiel wants to avert his eyes but feels as if that would give away his discomfort. The thing at least appears to be very comfortable. Apart from this almost nakedness there is another thing that bothers Castiel greatly about Dean's appearance. Usually Castiel sees not a person's outer appearance but their soul. He has to focus to see what their human form looks like, kind of like humans when they look at one of this hidden object pictures. Dean's soul glows in an dark, rich, royal blue, which is not only unusual (most souls are along the pastel spectrum), but also very beautiful. Now it is buried so far inside his body that Castiel cannot see it, only Dean's human face and body. Which, he can judge objectively as a non human, are also very beautiful. He clears his throat and tries to focus.

„Why are you so squirmy?“ Dean asks and it is as if his voice got even lower and thicker with innuendo than usual. Castiel silently scolds himself for not concealing his feelings better.  
„You inhabit my friend's body and the reason is unknown to me, that makes me uncomfortable.“  
He is proud of himself for his quick wit. Dean just nods and slowly sits back down, legs spread, back resting against the chair, hands relaxed on his thighs just above his knees. The grin is back now, teeth showing even, and the creature licks its lips. Closer to leering than to smiling.  
„Ok, let's make a deal. If you tell me a secret, I'll tell you one of mine.“, Dean suggests slowly and Castiel's neck is prickling once again.  
„Why?“, Castiel asks. Dean raises his hands, shrugs, and puts them back again.  
„I'm just so fucking bored. So, your turn first.“ Dean says and Castiel sighs once more, before pulling in another chair and sitting down outside of the trap, facing Dean. They are maybe 8 feet apart. Castiel can faintly smell Dean's cologne, the one he's had for years. And, underneath that, Dean's personal smell, which is a mix of fabric softener, whiskey, gunpowder and a hint of sunshine on skin.  
„What are you?“, Castiel asks and Dean's grin disappears. He looks annoyed.  
„Wrong question. Next time try asking who I am.“, he replies, but when Castiel opens his lips to ask accordingly, Dean waves him off.  
„My turn now.“, he says and puts the hand back on his thigh. No, on his lap. For a second Dean looks down on his hand, fabric resting on the buttons of his fly, then he looks back up again into Castiel's eyes. Dean's stare is generating a certain heat inside of Castiel, as if he was a chicken sitting below an infrared light. He doesn't avoid but hold Dean's gaze and so he doesn't miss the quick sparkle when Dean's voice, so low now it's more a growl, asks: „When was the first time you ever got hard because of Dean?“  
Castiel blinks, swallows, blinks again. His head is empty.  
„If I reply, can I ask another question?“, Castiel asks dryly, quietly. Dean nods, his grinning now downright predatory.  
“It was after the first physical altercation Dean and I had. There was a rage in his eyes that was honest and passionate and it woke something up inside of my vessel.”, Castiel answers truthfully and gives a little shrug. He still remembers the moment very vividly. Dean's warm body pressing against his, that scent of his deep inside Castiel's nostrils, being so close to down that whenever Dean took a deep breath his chest pushed against Castiel's, Dean looking down the inch or so to Castiel. And Castiel felt himself getting hard against Deans hipbone and quickly withdrew before he could notice.  
He, as an angel, is usually not corporeal. So he doesn't need to eat, sleep, drink, or breath, but he regularly does so in order to keep his vessel in at least an OK shape. Which means that his vessel maintains its very basic human functions. Including physical arousal. It happens once in a while, for example once when Castiel accidentally watched his first porno movie, or once when Meg kissed him hard and he pushed her against the wall. If it happens Castiel just waits it out, his body normally calms down again after a few minutes. He's never actually... Done anything about it.  
Dean's parasite is quiet at his answer and Castiel takes this as an invitation to ask his next question.  
“Who are you?”  
Dean's facial expression stays neutral. Then, just for a split second, his moss green eyes with bright white flick to all-black. Castiel lets out a sigh. So a demon after all. This will make this a lot easier.  
“My name is Sonael.”, he says and Castiel nods, brain working on high speed. Sam and he tried an exorcism earlier today with no effect so the demon must have somehow really latched onto Dean's soul. Which is likely the reason for Castiel's inability to see said soul clearly.  
“All right, me again. This is fun! Dean actually got his first hard-on for you even before he saw you. Remember that séance their friend Pam did, where you casually burned the eyeballs out of her pretty head? Hearing her say your name awoke something hidden in Dean' simple mind and gave him a raging boner underneath the table. Of course, only until he witnessed the whole eye-burning.”, Dean says casually. Castiel swallows hard at this. This is news to him. Not only this specific situation but also the fact that Dean has ever had any kind of non-platonic feelings for Castiel. Even if they were involuntary. Castiel is, by nature, non-gender conformed. An angel is an angel. But of course he is able to grasp the concept of gender of most earthly species, sexuality and of course attraction. And never, in their 10 years of knowing and living with each other, had there ever been even the slightest situation where it appeared that Dean was not attracted to only women. Castiel needs a few seconds to process all of this and what it might mean. The consequences. Sonael takes the chance to sit up a little straighter while slowly pushing down on his groin with the palm of his right hand. Castiel takes the bait and follows this deliberate but casual movement and squints his eyes when he thinks he sees a definite outline beneath the soft, old jeans.  
He realizes that Sonael hasn't even asked his question yet.  
“So my question is, what would you do to have Dean?” he asks now, emphasis on the word have.  
“Nothing, Dean has a free mind when he is not possessed by some unholy creature and can do whatever he pleases. It is not my place to command any... Favours.”, Castiel replies dryly and Dean huffs that small laugh again, looking away for a second.  
“Well, Cas, Dean is not home right now. But his body is here. So I'll offer you a deal. You get this”, he motions at Dean's large, solid shape, from head to toe, “and I get to go out of here. You wanna know why I inhabited Dean?”  
Sonael lifts Dean's nicely shaped behind off the wooden chair so that the waistband of his jeans and briefs become a little looser and more accessible and then slides his right hand in without any further ado. He sinks down again and Castiel can see Dean's hand move ever so slowly and gently underneath the two thin layers of fabric. Castiel shifts his weight on his own chair, feeling his dark blue slacks suddenly grow very tight around his groin. This is not supposed to be happening. Out of all the possible outcomes of this possession, Castiel never would have imagined this. His throat feels sore. What an unpleasant sensation.  
“I lost a goddamn bet in hell. We were sitting around, playing poker and we made a bet that the loser had to possess a Winchester.” Dean shrugs and Castiel sees his knuckles push outwards from inside the jeans and relax again. Push, relax, push, relax. Castiel damn near wiggles on his chair and in his pants, the fabric growing tighter by the second.  
“It took me a few days to track you guys down, but I found you and I... Slipped in.”  
Dean's pronunciation of those last three words is incredible. Thick like 1000 year old honey. The hand is still moving inside the pants, speed picking up slightly.  
“But now it's no more fun, so I just wanna go back to down under, but I'm trapped here. So here's my deal: You let me out of here. Before you do that I'll give you what you really want, but will never have. You can do whatever you want to this body. Dean is hidden inside of me so deep he'll never know. Pinky promise.”  
Castiel is very surprised at himself that he actually considers all of his possibilities, before shaking his head and clearing his throat.  
“No, I won't do anything to Dean.”, he says resolutely. Dean starts sighing and rolling his eyes, but quickly stops when Castiel finished his sentence with “But you will.”  
Dean's hand stops and he raises his eyebrows.  
“Sorry?”, Dean asks, sincerely confused. His mannerisms are so much like Dean's it's fascinating.  
“I won't do anything to Dean and I won't have you do something to me with his body. I'm sure he would not want that. But what I do know is that he regularly pleasures himself. Motel room walls... Are thin. So I want you to pleasure yourself while I watch and I'll let you go.” Castiel says, silently. He can't believe that these words actually left his mouth. If he knew God was listening he would now pray that Dean is really, really well hidden and did not hear anything of what he just said. He could never look into his eyes again.  
Dean's eyes narrow for a second while Sonael apparently scans his face for sincerity. He seems to have found what he was looking for, because just a moment later he shrugs, lifts Dean's butt off the chair again, hand sliding out of the jeans, quickly unbuttoning the pants, slightly pulling down both waistbands and with one easy moment he reaches into his boxer brief's and pulls out Dean's cock.  
Castiel blinks and swallows. Dean is not a small man and his cock perfectly fits hits frame. Uncut, Castiel remarks indifferently. Sonael brings Dean's right hand to his mouth, spits in it, licks his lips and forms a tight, lubricated fist around Dean's cock. His eyes stare directly into Castiel's, lips turned into a sly grin, one eyebrow raised.  
Castiel realizes with a start that his own cock... Throbs? That has never happened before and so he briefly wonders if this is normal.  
In agonizingly slow motion Dean's fist starts to move up and down, Dean's other hand relaxed on his thigh. Castiel watches this phenomenon for a minute or so before it feels as if his own vessel's cock was about to explode any minute. Worried, he unzips his slacks, reaches into the opening – he never wears underwear, he doesn't get cold, so what's the point – and pulls out his dick, so hard that it hurts slightly. Castiel observes it curiously. He's seen this in the porn movies that Dean has on his laptop. Looks normal, as far as Castiel can judge, but feels very intense. When Castiel closes his hand around it, one clear drop comes out and he flinches.  
“It's ok, Cas, all good, just go with it”, Sonael says, but his voice and intonation are now so spot on, soft, and inviting, that Castiel forgets that it is, in fact, not Dean. So he complies and mirrors Dean's movement. He blinks rapidly at the subsequent feelings. This is completely different to what he imagined. He thought that self-pleasure was like taking a drink when you're thirsty (already a strange concept to him), but this is so different. The feelings spread all over his body and he can even feel tiny beads of sweat forming on his hairline. Maybe it actually is really hot in here after all.  
Dean is moving a bit faster now and shoves his free left hand down into his briefs. Castiel must have looked confused at that, because Dean, no, Sonael, chuckles softly.  
“Come on, touch your balls, it feels pretty good”, he almost whispers and it is like a command to Castiel's hand which seems to have a mind of its own by now. Castiel has never touched this part of his vessel and when he does it sends small arrows of pleasure all the way up to his cranium.  
Dean speeds up even more and closes his eyes for a moment. Castiel is enraptured. He wishes that all the angels that were disappointed in their father creating humanity, could see Dean like this. Dean looks as if God himself chiseled this one man as a perfect model for the billions to come after him. Breath-takingly beautiful. It reminds Castiel of the first time he saw the Mariana's trench (back then still without miles of water on top of it), but even more intense.  
Still his hands move on his own and he can feel the vessel's heartbeat speed up. All those sensations are almost overwhelming to Castiel. Maybe he is light headed because all the blood is in his cock?  
Dean's hand moves up and down, up and down, sometimes a little slower, sometimes a little faster. Here and there he opens his eyes, emerald stare looking into Castiel's dark blue irises, and it makes Castiel's breath hitch. This is wrong on so many levels. No, on all the levels. The thought that Sam might come in any second crosses his mind for a split second before disappearing. Castiel does not care. At all.  
Dean has been pleasuring himself (jerking off?) for maybe 5 minutes, which feel like mere seconds to Castiel, who once spend 3200 years watching the snow falling on top of Mount Himalaya and melting again and not being bored, when his eyes open again, looking into Castiel's and a small moan escapes Dean's full, glistening lips. That small sound, a higher pitch than his voice, is Castiel's undoing. He doesn't even know what's happening to him as his whole body tightens and spasms, waves of heat and arousal and love and pain crashing through him, his mind blanking, a white, milky substance spilling on his shocked and shaking right hand. He immediately stops moving it, but the liquid keeps coming in short spurts. Castiel is transfixed on this weirdness that feels like actual heaven, until he hears a stronger version of the earlier, little moan from Dean and looks up to see Dean stretch his legs, curl his toes, put his head back and then the same thing happens to Dean's cock. Pump, squirt, pump. This vision causes Castiel to actually produce some more of the liquid and shoot it out, this time far enough to hit his dark pants. Castiel realizes he is panting. It takes a few more second before Dean stops moving his hand, lets out a long breath and lifts his head again. He sighs, looks down at his hands, and to Castiel absolute shock, horror and also glee, he lifts his right hand to his supple lips and... Licks off the liquid.  
“Oh, god” Someone whispers and Castiel needs a minute to realize it was his own voice.

The fog lifts off Castiel's mind a few minutes later and he gets up, gets an old towel from the sink in the corner and uses it to clean himself. Dean has already zipped his cock back up and looks at Castiel, all calm and relaxed.  
“Do we still have our deal?”, Castiel asks when he stands in front of the devil's trap. Mind confused, hands and legs still shaking, heart still racing, but also feeling very calm and relaxed. No wonder Dean always does this in the shower, especially after a nerve-wrecking hunt.  
Sonael nods and Castiel sends up a silent prayer before scratching a whole into the devil's trap in the floor with the tip of his boot. Dean's head falls back, mouth falls open and a black cloud shoots out, up and into the vents. Castiel squints at Dean's body and is just about to step into the broken circle and touch Dean, when he opens his eyes, yawns and stretches.  
His green eyes fall on Castiel, looking him up and down, and he raises his eyebrows.  
“Don't tell me I've been possessed. Again.”, Dean groans and Castiel lets out a sigh of relief.

Castiel recapitulates the recent events to Dean, but omits the end and just says that the exorcism finally worked on the demon after Sam was gone. Dean seems tired but fine and Castiel is beyond relieved. Not only to see his best friend alive and well but also that he seems thankfully oblivious to what happened in this library just minutes before. Wow. This Sonael must have been the very first demon to keep a promise.  
Dean chuckles softly.  
“I feel like the chick in one of those teenage rom coms, where guys bet on who can deflower her the fastest.” he says and pats Castiel happily on the back while putting on his shirt. With his boots and jacket in the left hand he walks around Castiel towards the door. Doorknob in hand, he turns around to Castiel and their eyes meet.  
“Hey Cas...”, he starts and Castiel automatically stands straighter upon hearing his special name, coming from this special and now right mouth.  
“Let's just not tell Sammy what happened after he left, ok?”, he asks with a small wink and Castiel for a second fears he will drop dead from shock.  
“Dean, I don't know what...”, he starts but Dean just waves him off.  
“Come on, man. I'm Dean Winchester, and this wasn‘t my first rodeo - no demon can sedate me enough to not feel any of... that. Just promise me something.”  
Castiel's mind is a complete empty, blank nothingness. He manages to nod.  
“Let's do it again soon.”, Dean says, gives Cas a short nod and tiny grin before disappearing into the hallway.


End file.
